


Seraphim

by TheSadisticMunchkin



Series: The Ship Is In The Harbor (The Concept Of Us) [8]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Aaron is an angel, Alternate Universe - Angels, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angel Wings, Angels, Angst, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Comfort/Angst, F/M, God is in this, God ships hamburr tbh, I guess???, M/M, Post-Canon, Religion, Temporary Character Death, Yup you read that right, angel lore, ~~He works in mysterious ways~~
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-15 19:19:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7235242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSadisticMunchkin/pseuds/TheSadisticMunchkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Did you ever notice how in the bible, whenever god needed to punish someone, or make an example, or whenever god needed a killing, he sent an angel? Did you ever wonder what a creature like that must be like? A whole existence spent praising your god, but always with one wing dipped in blood. Would you ever really want to see an angel?"</p><p> —Thomas Daggett, The Prophecy</p><p>Aaron is the angel of death and destruction; under God’s mighty hand he strikes the wicked and the disobedient. On a mission to kill a bastard, orphan, son of a whore, he never intended for his blade to stop feeling like the most comforting thing in his hands. </p><p>(Canon compliant Angel!Aaron thoughts with a hint of romance and tragedy)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seraphim

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I saw that quote in the summary on tumblr and I couldn't get it out of my head.
> 
> So here I am. With another 5k one shot just for my self-indulgent Angel!Aaron AU. Although, he's not your usual guardian angel ;)
> 
> And if you can, go check out my new fic "Ascendancy". It's suuuupppeeerrr slow-burn but I promise there will be more exciting stuff to come!
> 
> Enjoy the fic!

Aaron’s wings were beautiful.

 

They were a charcoal black with streaks of gray that fanned out at the ends. They were enormous, so huge that they could engulf him almost twice. The other angels envied him. He was _gorgeous_. Their god reimagined him from the finest marble and his blood ran with the most precious diamonds. Other creatures would sometimes mistake him for a god; how can someone so beautiful not be the creator of all the universe and beyond?

 

But Aaron was merely a soldier. He was god’s best soldier, the obedient servant. There were angels, seraphs, he would argue had a much better purpose than him. However, with each new mission, he would feel more and more important as time went on. He stayed humble for that’s how his god intended him to be. He was not to disobey direct orders and would do anything for the Father who had much more power than anything he bestowed upon Aaron.

 

Angels are known to have no other intention but to serve their god. That’s where Aaron is special too. He wasn’t just a beautiful angel that blinded the unworthy with his ethereal presence, he was human in every other sense. Born of humanity and the sympathy of God, Aaron became the heavens’ first human angel, carved from marble and diamonds. That was why his wings were black. He was the only angel born of Original Sin.

 

And he perceives Sin to one day be his downfall.

 

The assignment was simple yet so different from what he was used to. He was used to mass destruction. He was very similar to the Angel of Death that so many people read in their bibles. He was the angel that thrived during the plague, during wars, massacres, drought and famine. His dark wings hid the stain of the blood forever screaming out in pain in the soil of the earth. _Pain._ He was so good at pain. He was so good to the point that pain was the only human thing he left behind.

 

So when God had given him the assignment to kill only one person, it surprised him. On the one hand, it would be much less work and he wouldn’t have to watch the aftermath of his own destruction. However, how bad could this one man be? How could he question the god that gave him everything and more? He couldn’t, it wasn’t possible. He agreed and the other angels created his second human persona that would be more important than anything he’s ever done or killed.

 

He was plopped into 1776, New York City.

 

He was renamed, _Aaron Burr._

 

Prodigy of Princeton, they said he was. It was a respectable persona and a very impressive one at that. This Burr figure was someone Aaron could work with. He never had to pretend he was anything else other than an angel so it was going to be a challenge. However, there had never been anything he couldn’t handle before. He has wielded blades, bathed in blood, carved out hearts, and killed with only the mercy of the Lord on his tongue that could bring any sort of redemption.

 

However, no amount of men he killed could have prepared him for the nineteen-year-old that wanted only to shake his hand. Absolutely nothing could have prepared him for the awe-struck, doe-like eyes and the internal rhymes on his tongue. Nothing could have prepared him for the sound of his name ( _ Aaron Burr, sir)  _ to be said with such reverence that didn’t involve a golden altar at his feet. This angel was not prepared for the hurricane.

 

That hurricane was named Alexander Hamilton.

 

He was _not prepared_ for Alexander Hamilton.

 

He was not prepared to _kill him._

 

He knew this was the one. This was the one god predicted would be  _ the best president America never had.  _ So why was he to kill him? If he would be the best, why should this young man’s blood be on his hands, splattered carelessly on his wings? He was a child hungry for war. Anyone on the land that he was set on would be hungry for war. Aaron had to watch civilizations rise and fall through war. That was just how history works.

 

Yet he was going into history as the man who killed Alexander Hamilton.

 

He wasn’t even a man but his heart beat just like one. And he could feel Alexander’s heartbeat. They were walking together about 2 feet away from each other and Aaron could feel every thump of his heart against his chest. “Talk less, smile more.” He told him. Maybe he wouldn’t have to kill him if he changed who he was. Missions change, missions could be aborted. If Aaron tried hard enough, maybe God will just ask him to kill the British Army.

 

Maybe then, Alexander would be safe from him.

 

Why was he caring so much for a young boy whose words would ultimately be his doom? He didn’t know why but somewhere within him, he knew he was not destined to kill this man. He wouldn’t allow it. If he loses his wings for this, so be it. He has never disobeyed God before but if he played his cards right, he wouldn’t really have to. He would end up carrying out a new order that didn’t involve Alexander Hamilton. 

 

His wings twitched within his burgundy coat.

* * *

 

He shouldn’t have joined the war.

 

He now has blood on his hands that made his wings itch with guilt.

 

And he was pretty sure Alexander was going to get killed of his own accord. Put him in the line of fire and the man would explode. Aaron would have fulfilled his mission just like that. But he didn’t do that. How could he do that? He was unlike any other human he had to kill. God was a forgiving being but this was also the God that flooded the whole earth because he didn’t like the people living in it. How much did God hate Alexander Hamilton?

 

So instead of making it quick, painless, almost like a well-played out memory in Alexander’s head, he decided to wait. God never gave him a specific time to kill him. He was allowed to bend the rules as long as he got the job done in the end. So he waited. He waited by telling Alexander he met a married woman and fell in love with her. He waited by shaking his hand and sparing him one last glance before he retires to his tent.

 

He waited by digging up the one thing that he has buried for centuries.

 

_ Pain. _

 

He allowed himself to feel it. Pain was the dagger at his side. Pain was the smell of gunpowder on the battlegrounds. Pain was the underlying truth that was forever embedded into his head. Pain was the knowledge that he will one day kill Alexander Hamilton. Pain was the fact that no matter how long he would wait, he will have to ruin his non-existent life to fulfill God’s word. Never in his time as an angel did he think he would ever miss the feeling of pain.

 

He stripped himself of the stuffy war uniform that confined him in more ways than one and let his wings free. He took in a hearty gulp of air but his lungs continued to burn in agony. His wings fell next to him and shook tremendously. The itch couldn’t be sated, his wings would forever be twitching. The dark feathers looked even darker against his sweat soaked skin. _So this was what it was supposed to be like being human again._

 

He didn’t think that being a human again could cause him this much sorrow.

 

So he sat there, his wings bare and his chest heaving with each breath, and prayed for the first time since he got here.

 

_ Dearest Lord,  _ he said.

 

_ Why did you pick me to kill him? He’s so fragile, so young, so full of fire, so full of the pain that I have now bestowed upon myself. Why did you pick me to kill him? There are angels far more superior than I, my Lord. I am but an angel born of Original Sin. Should you not have cast me into the fires of hell? Should you not have sent me into purgatory to wait for my true fate? Why heaven? Why did you see me worthy, oh my Lord, and why did you see me as the only one to kill him? _

 

_ Who is he, Lord? _

 

_ Why him? _

 

_ Why me? _

* * *

 

He had a nightmare for the first time.

 

_ Prophecy,  _ that was what it was. He never had those before, no angel has had those before. No angel ever had the privilege to look into the mind of God. It was almost blasphemous to assume that a dream so vivid and spine-tingling could have come from the snap of God’s fingertips. But he was there, alone in the dark, drenched in cold sweat, and awake from a dream that he didn’t want to be real.

 

He also cried for the first time that night.

 

It was  _ too  _ real for him. He has only known Alexander for a few years and yet the man has found a way to clamor onto him and become the soul that his body has missed. The dream painted him as older, maybe 10 years or so in the future, glasses perched precariously on his face, and gun raised to the sky. He was trying so hard to fight it that the entire thing was almost black and white. When he woke up, all he could see was the 19-year old who smiled at him like he was the whole world.

 

The candle was at its wick’s end when he left the tent for fresh air. He was naked by the time’s standards but he really didn’t feel like putting on his entire uniform just to walk around. The rest of the soldiers were asleep, save some who were assigned to night watch. They waved at him as he walked past them. He gave them all the most genuine smile he could muster. These men have been through too much pain for Aaron to be cruel enough to give them something else to worry about.

 

He didn’t notice that he stopped before the section of the campgrounds that had the tents of Washington’s aides-de-camp. He was hesitant to step into their vicinity. He was a remarkable soldier, that part was obvious, but he felt wrong to invade into the war’s equivalent of holy ground. Angel or not, he knew most of these soldiers saw Washington as some sort of God. It would be rude even for him to even look in his general direction without orders.

 

“Aaron?” 

 

At the sound of his name, he turned around and scanned the area for where it may have come from. He was confused for a second until a small figure started walking towards him. He pointed his gun at it, he was still a soldier after all and was ready to shoot if ever. His grip on the trigger relaxed when he saw that it was only Alexander. The hardships of war seemed to have taken a toll on him. The bags under his eyes were visible even in the moonlight and he yawned when they were only a breath apart.

 

“What are you doing up? Did you have a question for Washington that you need to be passed?” The war has almost ended but it seemed the war within the other man’s body hasn’t been fought well enough. He was swaying on the spot from lack of sleep and Aaron had to keep a firm grip on the man’s shoulders to keep him from collapsing. It’s been more than 5 years but Alex still looked so young and fragile.

 

“I just came out for some air. The tent gets lonely at times and I thought if I saw some friendly faces, it would ease me back into sleep.”

 

“Has it been working for you then, sir?” Alexander said with another yawn. Aaron sighed in sympathy, which could be heard as only one of frustration from Alexander’s point of view.

 

“Not in the slightest.” He didn’t know why he did it but he slung an arm around Alexander’s shoulders to keep him upright. “How about you, my friend?” He didn’t miss the small light of pride that ignited in Alexander’s eyes at the words  _ my friend.  _ Aaron hid his smile for pride also swelled in his heart at Alexander’s affectionate reaction. “Have you been sleeping well? What keeps you up so late at night?”

 

“I am an aide-de-camp, Mr. Burr, sir. I have a job to do.”

 

“You are not the only aide-de-camp, Mr. Hamilton. I’m sure Washington can do without your wondrous brain for one night.” He reminded him with a soft smile and for once, Alexander didn’t argue with him. He simply leaned in closer to Aaron’s warmth and it only served to make Aaron’s heart skip a few beats. He was going to blame it on fatigue. 

 

“I suppose you are right. I must head to my tent then, Mr. Burr. Would you like me to walk you to yours before I go?” Something inside him told him that it was a bad idea but the latter part swept it aside and accepted the offer with fervor. They walked in the moonlight, almost like lovers in a midsummer night’s dream. Aaron stretched his invisible wings out into the cool air behind him and the satisfied sigh could have come from a myriad of other elements that would not make Alex curious.

 

They talked. It seemed they never really run out of things to talk about. They haven’t been talking together, alone, lately. Alexander has other, better, friends who are just as loud and rowdy as he was. He fit right in with them while Aaron stuck out like a sore thumb. He was a  _ once  _ human turned angel amongst  _ real  _ humans who would never even dream of seeing an angel before death came to them. They swept him aside after a few rounds of drinks.

 

So Aaron missed this. God, did he  _ miss  _ this. He missed the easy camaraderie he shared with Alexander. But he certainly didn’t miss the utter sorrow that would wash over him every time their hands would brush against each other or Alexander, drunk out of his mind, would walk his fingers across his arms in a seemingly innocent touch. Aaron felt something stir in him, something unfamiliar, something  _ unsafe,  _ everytime Alexander looked at him.

 

He looked at him now with stardust in his eyes underneath the stars that littered the sky tonight. The moon was full and bright and it sat like a halo on Alexander’s head. For once in his life, Aaron didn’t feel like the angel. “I bid you goodnight, Mr. Hamilton.” He said with some itch caught in his throat that he couldn’t bring himself to scratch. He gave Aaron a sleepy smile that made the angel’s heart stop entirely. He didn’t need it when Alexander was looking at him like that.

 

_ I don’t want to kill you.  _

 

“Mr. Burr, will you resent me if I asked you if I could kiss you?”

 

_ I don’t want to kill you.  _

 

Aaron’s only answer was to step closer into Alexander’s personal space until he could feel his hot breath contrast against the cool breeze on his chapped lips.

 

_ I don’t want to kill you.  _

 

Alexander leaned in, marriage forgotten and indulged himself in the Colonel’s virgin lips. Aaron forced himself not to cry because  _ this  _ was what he wanted to be sent down from heaven for.  _ This  _ was what he wanted to believe was his mission. He hesitantly placed his hands on the other man’s waist and he felt a small grip on the front of his dress shirt. This act was sinful yet the feeling was pure, innocent,  _ heavenly.  _

 

He pulled away all too soon, leaving Aaron wanting to chase his lips in his wake, but he stopped himself before he could look desperate. “Goodnight, Mr. Burr. Thank you for being my friend in this time of war.” Soon enough, Alexander was walking back to his tent alone and Aaron was left standing there by the entrance of his own tent. As he watched Alexander’s back disappear into the night’s light fog, only one thought plagued his mind throughout the rest of the evening;

 

_ I don’t want to kill you. _

 

_ But I thoroughly enjoyed kissing you. _

* * *

 

He understood how it felt like not to say no.

 

He only ever did it once, on a cold night, when he felt completely and utterly alone. He wanted more, more  _ sinful things,  _ but he stopped himself just in time. God was still watching his favorite angel; he couldn’t afford to lose his wings so early in the game. He was not aware why he didn’t say no or why he let it continue for as long as it did. It was the revolutionary war, lives were being sacrificed, and wives were being left at home. Comfort was so scarce on the battlefield.

 

But why did he seek comfort in Alexander?

 

Of all the people, of all the men and women in the world, he picked Alexander. Or rather, Alexander picked him. He was missing his wife, he needed some form of reprieve from the gore he witnessed throughout the years. He picked Aaron, the one person  _ not _ in his tight-knit revolutionary friend group. He could have asked Laurens or Lafayette and he was willing to bet that Mulligan would have been happy to do it with no strings attached.

 

But Aaron was attached and he couldn’t let go. The second Alexander’s lips touched his, he knew he was helpless. He prayed that very same night for answers as to why he was falling in a way an angel knew not how. He cried that night, his screams muffled into his pillow. He knew God was watching him then and it angered him to know that he was watching yet he didn’t bother to give any other answer.

 

He was only given one dream and he didn’t know what to discern from it. He saw Alexander with his eyes filled with sorrow and pistol raised to the sky. He saw an older Alexander with tears blurring up his vision behind round wire glasses. However, he didn’t only see Alexander. He saw his poor wife, Eliza, hunched over his writing desk with the required note to be written for the next of kin. The thought of her, in so much  _ pain,  _ because of  _ him  _ one day plagued him with guilt and nervous anticipation.

 

Today, however, he witnessed Alexander not saying no.

 

He came to him, his entire being drenched in the rain, with a bag in one hand and a suitcase in the other. Aaron knew what happened. The Reynolds Pamphlet reached his doorstep that very same night and Aaron tried to burn it out of frustration. He wanted to be angry at him. He tried _so hard_ to be angry at the man who has committed _sin after sin after sin_ in his short lifetime. He was an angel, he should have been repulsed by how adulterous Alexander was since the war.

 

But he let him inside. Eliza must have asked him to leave the house and the first place he thought to run to was straight back to Aaron Burr. He was his confidant and workmate for years, it was natural to go to someone you would consider as a friend. God damn it, Aaron saw him as his _only friend_ , the one true human connection he made on this earth and he had to kill him at some point in the future.

 

“Senator Burr, it would be wrong of me to thank you for whatever kindness or obligation you feel towards me. I can’t say I deserve it for I’m sure you’ve read what I’ve done.” Aaron led him to the couch in the living room as he continued to talk. He didn’t know what he was saying half the time but nevertheless, he listened. He proceeded to pour him a glass of wine in the hopes that he would fall asleep soon enough. 

 

Then he started talking about how no one understands what he was trying to do and Aaron had enough of it. His feelings had to be put aside just so he could set this man straight. “Have you forgotten that my late wife,”  _ who doesn’t exist.  _ “Was married when I met her?” Alexander stayed silent this time, a feat he only achieved twice in his time here on earth and it still brings him a sense of pride when he does it. 

 

“I know the feeling of seeing someone so full of life and with the stars in their eyes that you’re afraid that whoever they are with could be the ones fanning the flames out.” Of course, both Theodosias did not exist. However, he needed his own form of example without making it too obvious that Aaron was really talking about Alexander. His new life did revolve around him, after all. “I wanted to save her and in turn, she gave me the love I could only dream of.”

 

He was staring at Alexander the whole time. The man in question was avoiding his eye contact, which was a good thing. The eyes were the windows to what he was truly feeling. Alexander didn’t need to know any of that. He stretched his invisible wings slightly to ruffle his feathers before continuing. “I am not saying that I am justifying what you did to your  _ wife,  _ Alexander. You promised,  _ in front of God,  _ that you would cherish her and never make her feel helpless in her life again.” 

 

Alexander bit his bottom lip tight enough to draw blood and the sight caused Aaron to slowly drop to his knees and give the man a handkerchief. “What you did was a sin beyond repair and it would take a miracle or a tragedy for Eliza to forgive you.” When it was clear that Alex was not going to take the handkerchief, Aaron gently placed his hand on his cheek and non-verbally asked for permission to wipe his mouth.

 

When no protest came, Aaron gently dabbed his lips to keep the blood from smearing. Alexander was quiet but he felt the air around them buzzing with tension. He ruffled his feathers a little more to control his urges and keep steady. “I am not justifying what you did,” He repeated again when he finished cleaning up the blood. “But I can say that I understand. Empathy is lost amongst gentlemen these days. I cannot say that you are an  _ entirely _ good man but I  _ understand _ you.”

 

Alexander probably thought Aaron was talking about Theodosia so he looked into his eyes, finally, to see if he was telling the truth. Aaron wasn’t talking about Theodosia. Theodosia doesn’t exist. But Aaron had nothing but sincerity in his heart and it ached to know this man was so close yet too broken for him to make a move. Eliza has gone through too much today, it was wise not to prolong her agony.

 

“My daughter is out of town visiting her maternal grandmother,” He lied effortlessly as he stood up from his spot on the floor. Alexander only looked at him with the dying embers in his eyes. Aaron’s wings twitched. “You may sleep in her room for as long as you like.” One of the best angel ‘powers’ was the ability to warp reality around people. The single mention of a spare room brought the entire thing to reality without Alexander ever realizing it.

 

“My room is down the hallway if you need me.” 

 

He locked himself in his room afterwards and prayed for Eliza.

* * *

 

From his time as an angel, Aaron only learned two things.

 

The first was that God was the almighty father who must be obeyed no matter what.

 

The second was that he was nothing but a servant and he wouldn’t be anything else.

 

However, his time as a human has taught him only one thing.  _ Life doesn’t discriminate.  _ He has taken for granted his supposed immortality for so long that being thrust back into the human world was an eye opener. He has visited earth, on specific orders, before and he has never felt things such as doubt, self-hate, loathing, pride, and confusion. There is one thing that he has realized is also a dangerous weapon.

 

_ Love.  _ Love could carve out your heart and throw it to the ground with no mercy. Love could burn your story but reimagine it from the ashes of unforgotten affections. Love was the touch of sinful lips underneath the moonlight. Love was the forgiveness in a hand held in a secret garden. Love was sunrise at Weehawken, pistol raised to the sky, glasses gleaming with known defeat. But love was the cry of  _ wait  _ as a bullet escaped his gun and lodged in between his ribs.

 

Love was his wings springing free from his black coat and the blood pumping to his ears. He heard screams from their seconds and the doctor on standby. They ran as far as they could as Aaron stumbled his way towards Alexander. For the very first time, he felt nauseous at the sight of blood steadily dripping from a soldier’s side. For the very first time, he fell to his knees for someone who wasn’t the God that created him.

 

For the very first time, he never wanted to be an angel.

 

But Alexander’s face, peaceful amongst the cloud of pain, made Aaron want to believe that he was going to heaven. If he wasn’t, he would take him there himself. He held the marksman close, opening his shirt to reveal his entrance wound where the bullet hit him. He gasped for air knowing that he didn’t need it but for every fading second Alexander laid there, the more he knew he was losing the air in his own lungs.

 

“Alexander, oh Lord, I’m sorry.  _ I’m so sorry.  _ I-I didn’t  _ want  _ to do this…” He didn’t notice that his dark wings shielded the sunlight away from Alexander’s face but it cast an almost heavenly glow around him. His clothes were ripped and his wings moved with each breath he took. Alexander seemed to be looking at nothing else but right into Aaron’s eyes. He was  _ smiling.  _ Why the hell was he  _ smiling?  _

 

“Aaron Burr, sir? Are you an angel?” Those were the words of a man about to die and Aaron didn’t want it to happen. But with each shuddering breath, he knew it was coming. “I…” He coughed slightly and Aaron held him tighter. “I never noticed you were so beautiful. Y-You  _ must  _ be an angel? I-I knew you would be the last face I’d ever see.” His smile was almost delirious but Aaron couldn’t bring himself to look away. How could he say that Aaron was beautiful when he has literal blood on his hands?

 

He was about to say sorry again when time seemed to freeze all around him. No.  _ No no no, this can’t be happening.  _ He’s not ready.  _ Alexander’s  _ not ready. He can’t go now. He will fight the reaper himself if he had to just for a few more minutes with the human who changed everything. Aaron didn’t believe in soulmates, God never made any of the sort, but Alexander became his soul. Alexander became the reason for his pain, longing, happiness, and humanity.

 

His wings shook violently as he cried.

 

“Your mission is complete, Aaron.” He cried harder as a time-stuck Alexander, the one with the dreamy smile on his face, stared at him with all the wonder a soon to be dead man could muster. Pain.  _ Pain. So much pain.  _ Why did he allow himself to feel it again when he knew it was going to be this horrible? He thought the pain was just the bullets and the sword wounds. He thought pain was the tears of widows. He didn’t want the pain to come from doing his mission.

 

_ Why did he ever make the pain come back?  _

 

“Aaron, it’s time to take Alexander away now.” The voice of God was unmistakable. He’s heard it so many times before but has been neglected of hearing it for many human years. As an angel,  _ to Aaron,  _ the time he took to kill Alexander was like a snap of his fingers. As a human,  _ to Aaron Burr,  _ it was an entire lifetime gone too quickly. After this, the facade of Aaron Burr will become a human reality, a warped imagination that would make it to the history books.

 

His persona would become the man who killed Alexander Hamilton.

 

“Please tell me he’s going to heaven.” He finally said as he finally looked up from the bullet wound that  _ he  _ created. “The fires of hell would be too much for him,  _ please God.”  _ He has never begged like this before. His prayers in the past years were questions, doubts he would feel. This was a supplication of the highest order. Asking for a particular human to go to heaven, without any real knowledge of God’s plan, was a blasphemous deed to most angels.

 

God didn’t answer. God never answered to anyone.

* * *

 

There was a snap of his fingers and the world around him shifted until he was alone. He wasn’t on the dueling grounds. He wasn’t with Alexander. He was back in his pre-war clothing and his wings stretched beautifully behind him. If he knew any better, they seemed much bigger than before. The area was familiar, the smell, the air, the buildings that surrounded him; they all looked familiar.

 

“Pardon me, are you Aaron Burr, sir?” 

 

Aaron turned around with a gasp at the phrase and he was face to face with none other than Alexander Hamilton. This was the 19-year-old Alexander with the stars in his eyes and the longing for war in his heart. But his smile was older, reminiscent of the 30-year-old Alexander who was fire in the courtroom beside him. His laugh was as crisp as the breeze of the night they first kissed. “Is it really you?” He asked, still in disbelief. He wanted so badly to believe it.

 

“This is heaven, is it not?” He said with a bright laugh that made Aaron's entire being  _sing._

 

“What kind of heaven did you want, Alexander? What kind of heaven did you want to have  _ me _ in it?” He was in heaven again. God didn’t throw him out or clip his wings. He technically still did his job, and he did it well enough. He was expecting to be left alone rotting on earth for the sins he committed. Did God forgive him? “Why am I here with you?” He asked with a desperation he didn’t know he had. Alexander brought out so much in him that he wasn’t used to. It didn’t mean he didn’t want it.

 

“Truth be told, I’m also waiting for Eliza.” Alexander scuffed his shoes on the imaginary pavement and bit his lip softly. Aaron didn’t forget what those felt like against his. “I saw Phillip too, only for a moment. I missed him  _ so much _ , Aaron.” At that statement, Alexander instinctively took Aaron’s hands. Aaron had no heart anymore but if he did, it would have been soaring higher than heaven at Alexander’s touch.

 

“But Burr,” Alexander stopped and smiled a little bit before continuing. “ _Aaron,_ while I wait, could you wait with me? After all, my heaven is _nothing_ without you in it.”

 

_ My heaven is nothing without you in it.  _

 

“Will you ever forgive me?” He said, still on the precipice between doubt and euphoria.

 

“Forgive you for what?” Alexander gave him the most radiant smile that erased all types of self-doubt within seconds. “You brought me to heaven! There is  _ nothing _ to forgive.” Alexander placed his hand on Aaron’s cheek and the angel leaned into his touch. “You’re  _ my  _ angel.” When Alexander leaned in to give Aaron what he has been waiting for since that one night, Aaron wasted no time and captured those soft lips in a passionate kiss.

 

Aaron's wings looked beautiful as he engulfed Alexander in a warm embrace.

 

_ I’ll wait forever with you.  _

 

_ For my heaven is nothing without you in it.  _

**Author's Note:**

> Comment and Kudos will be very much appreciated <3


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